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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301637">With Clear Intentions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSkyLarkin/pseuds/TheSkyLarkin'>TheSkyLarkin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ni no Kuni II: Revenant Kingdom (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gen, Mentioned Doloran's Parents (OCs), Mentioned Lofty (Ni No Kuni), Mentioned Queen Nerea (Ni No Kuni), Mentioned Roland Crane, Mentioned Tani (Ni No Kuni), Missing Scene, Tale of a Timeless Tome Spoilers, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Worldbuilding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:26:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSkyLarkin/pseuds/TheSkyLarkin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
"In the end, walking the path of Dark is no more dishonorable than walking the path of Light, as long as it's done with clear intentions."<br/>
</p>
</blockquote><br/><i>Abarat</i> (Clive Barker, 2002)<p>Leander, Doloran, and how their mastery of dark magic has influenced their worldviews and relationships. Spoilers for the base game and Timeless Tome DLC.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alisandra/Doloran (Ni no Kuni), Leander Aristides &amp; Queen Nerea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dusk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A gift for kaikaykoa for the NNK Secret Santa (2020) on tumblr.</p><p>Thank you to cherryslibrary (<a href="https://cherryslibrary.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>/<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryslibrary/pseuds/cherryslibrary">Ao3</a>) and <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/frelioan">frelioan</a>/<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyneko">fairyneko</a> for beta reading!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Leander attempts a world record Character Development speedrun as he contemplates what to make of King Evan of Evermore and Queen Nerea’s undisclosed scheme.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the sun began to set over Leucippes’ Labyrinth, Cetus—the last living remnant of the old kingdom—burst forth once more from the detritus of the long fallen civilization, ground down into fine granules by the inglorious passage of time. The ancient sea beast thrashed about with a roar of desperation, indigo-colored blood gushing from the many stab wounds between the moss-covered scales of its neck and onto the ashen sand below. A few more well-aimed strikes from a sword, spear, or axe would cut down the injured creature in due time. The massive fangfish seemed to be keenly aware of this as it lashed out madly with a renewed fervor.</p><p>However, Leander did not have the patience to wait for one of the ragtag band he reluctantly accompanied by order of his Queen to strike that decisive blow. Besides, the thought of the mighty Cetus—who had outlasted entire kingdoms and dynasties—finally falling to the hands of an ignorant outsider felt so fundamentally <i>wrong</i> to him. If anyone present should have the duty of bringing about an end to such fearsome and fabled a creature, it ought to be Leander Aristides, archon and emissary to the queen of Hydropolis.</p><p>As he mentally traced the familiar runes that had been etched into his memory by a childhood of dedicated study, power coursed through Leander’s entire body as a seam in the fabric of reality came undone in the space in front of him. From this arcane portal to the eternal and all-consuming void, giant ribbon-like tendrils of pure darkness with clawed edges whipped out wildly before Leander applied a modicum more focus to the spell. They began to encircle the neck of the injured beast, stabbing relentlessly into the vulnerable flesh wherever they could find it. Eyes shut tight as all of his concentration was poured into keeping the chaotic dark energy rigorously bent to his will (and not instead inadvertently striking his temporary companions, even the loud ones), the archon could only hear the last breath strangled out of the sea beast with a prolonged, throaty rasp.</p><p>The stygian tendrils dissipated into thin air as Leander carefully reduced the swirling orb of darkness to such an insignificant size that the portal to oblivion within simply ceased to exist, depriving the dark constructs of their source of manifestation. The archon opened his eyes just in time to witness the light die within the sea beast’s own just before its lifeless body slammed into the ground so hard that it seemed to shake the entire ruin. ‘<i>How appropriate</i>’, Leander thought as he noticed the long shadows of twilight beginning to snake their way in through the exposed end of the ruined temple that Cetus had refused to vacate—even after three centuries and the destruction of the civilization that both revered and feared the creature.</p><p>Oblivious to the significance of the grim task they had just accomplished, the two sky pirates let out matching victorious shouts at the sight of their fallen quarry dissolving back into vibrant blue particles of magical energy. Even the other human could not keep a satisfied smile off of his usually unreadable face. But when Leander dismissed his spear back into his arms band and turned to the last two members of his unexpected company, he witnessed the minuscule “kingmaker” glaring back with untempered skepticism and the boy-king of Evermore (ears stiff with shock and pupils blown to the size of small saucers) staring at him with unalloyed <i>horror</i>.</p><p>Leander was not surprised in the slightest by the collective unease of king and kingmaker; he had three whole centuries to get used to the dirty looks and unsavory assumptions that people made towards practitioners of certain types of magic. It seemed that the longstanding stigma against dark magic was still alive and well in the lands beyond Hydropolis. (That was not to say that his kingdom had a shortage of likewise small-minded individuals, however.) In any other circumstance, he would have paid their reactions no mind, especially since King Evan quickly wiped the expression off his face after catching the archon’s eye. However, if this excursion to Leucippes’ Labyrinth was not in fact a clever ploy and his queen really did intend to sign this Declaration of Interdependence, then Leander ought to be more concerned about making such a negative impression upon Hydropolis’s prospective new ally.</p><p>For Leander, the true novelty was the complete apathy—or nonchalance—of the king’s other traveling companions towards such a spell being cast in front of them. Perhaps they were merely too uneducated in the matters of magic to recognize Sundown or understand why it was such a taboo spell? (Being the watchful eyes of the queen when the Eye did not suffice had taught Leander not to ascribe non-existent malice when plain ignorance was usually the correct explanation for the behavior of others.) None of them remarked upon the end of the battle at all other than the sky pirate girl requesting Leander’s confirmation that the defeat of Cetus meant that Queen Nerea would sign their treaty.</p><p>Before he could reply to her (while stonily ignoring the glib comment from the dark-haired man regarding the credibility of Queen Nerea’s word—he had no room to speak about integrity after having participated in a scheme to break all of the Four Pillars with the rest of them), King Evan interrupted to ask about the large gemstone Cetus had dropped as his kingmaker held aloft the Ocean’s Aether. Ah, so this was the reason why the queen had insisted upon his presence during this excursion. The sea beast must have relinquished the shimmering sapphire while Leander was busy winding up the last dark strands of his spell. Otherwise, he would not have missed such a valuable artifact of Hydropolitan history plummeting to the ground.</p><p>“So this is what Her Majesty meant for us to retrieve…” Leander mused as he examined the gemstone. The Ocean’s Aether was named for the unique way in which the cut of the stone mimicked the image of a drop of water falling into the ocean and sending out ripples upon impact. If this were a counterfeit copy, its craftsmanship was exquisite enough to be indistinguishable from the true stone. “Could she really intend to…” He could not bring himself to finish that thought out loud, certainly not in his present company. Why would the queen bring about an end to the spell that had kept Hydropolis and its people safe from an ashen and watery grave for three centuries? And why <i>now</i>, after all this time?</p><p>“Is everything alright, Leander?” asked King Evan with a look of concern. Everything was most certainly not “alright” if Queen Nerea had seemingly given up on keeping her kingdom alive for reasons unknown even to him. But of course, Leander would not say this out loud to the Evermorians.</p><p>“...Yes. Very much so,” the archon lied through his teeth. “Let us return to the palace.” He would just have to ask the queen herself when they arrived and they were afforded some privacy from their guests. Out of respect for her, he had not revealed that he was aware of the enchantment that kept Hydropolis in an annual stasis to stave off its impending doom. But if the rest of the kingdom was in danger, he would have to break that promise (made to no one but himself).</p><p>“Actually...” the young king began hesitantly, bringing Leander back to the present. “Before we go back, there’s something I would like to talk to you about first. Alone...if that’s alright with you.” His gaze shifted towards the rest of his entourage as he said this, and they (minus Lofty, the kingmaker) gave him and Leander some odd looks at this strange request.</p><p>Leander nodded in response. If nothing else, this spared him from having to think up a reason to explain himself to Evan later on. Though clearly still puzzled, the Evermorians reluctantly complied with the unspoken order. With a few bemused parting glances, they headed back across the ruined bridge as the sun began to sink into the horizon, leaving the king and the archon alone in the dilapidated seat of the former sea beast. Lofty made it as far as the entrance to the crumbling temple before planting himself at the threshold, far enough to give them the illusion of privacy yet close enough to...intervene somehow if King Evan felt threatened? (For all the good that would do.)</p><p>The miniature kingmaker was indeed a curious sight to behold. Lofty had the proper aura that could have only resulted from the formation of a kingsbond, but Leander had never seen a kingmaker of such diminutive size and power. Why, Brineskimmer could swallow him whole in one bite! Before any of the Evermorians had even opened their mouths back in the Palace dungeons, Leander was already against the concept of an alliance with this new kingdom due to Lofty and his less than impressive stature. (Surely a tiny kingmaker was an indication of an insignificant nation?)</p><p>However, the word of Her Majesty was law, and she must have seen some glimmer of potential in the young king in order to entrust him with retrieving something of such importance to Hydropolis as the Ocean’s Aether. At least King Evan was taking the initiative by initiating this conversation and attempting discretion with what he must have considered to be a delicate matter.</p><p>“Erm…” The ears and tail of the young man with grimalkin blood twitched nervously as he fumbled for the words he wanted. Well, the brief display of confidence was nice while it lasted.</p><p>“You mean to ask why I use dark magic, do you not?” Leander asked. King Evan looked a bit embarrassed that Leander had to be the one to begin his own questioning, but nodded. The archon desperately wanted to cut right to the chase and return to Hydropolis as quickly as possible, but for the sake of future diplomacy with Evermore, it would be best to explain himself in a way that the young man might understand. “If I may be so bold, please allow me to turn your question upon its head,” the archon continued. “As you seem to be the most well-studied on the subject of magic among your companions, why do you <i>not</i> use dark magic?”</p><p>King Evan cocked his head to the side in puzzlement; as Leander had predicted, the young man clearly had never given thought to this question. “Well, I suppose Nel—I mean, my tutor in magic never taught me any because she said that dark magic is the most dangerous and difficult to control type of magic,” he explained after a few moments, attempting an air of confidence that Leander saw right through. “And I wasn’t able to complete my training on account of—”</p><p>Seeing as the subject of his (former, most likely) mentor seemed to make the young king even more uncomfortable, Leander decided to move the conversation along before things got too awkward to continue. “Do you wish to learn some dark magic?”</p><p>Evan instinctively blanched at the mere thought, then seemed surprised and slightly embarrassed once he became aware of his initial reaction. “N-not really…”</p><p>“And why is that, pray tell? Surely a wizard such as yourself should aim to master as much magic as possible? And a king more so, as one must always be aware of any means for a hostile force to attack their kingdom?” Leander kept his tone light, but he could already see that the gears in King Evan’s head were beginning to turn as he mulled over those questions.</p><p>“Well, yes, but...dark magic is just so much more—”</p><p>“—frightening than the rest?” Leander finished for him. Evan nodded again, face slightly flushed with embarrassment. “Indeed it is, as many careless wizards have been gravely injured or have even lost their lives attempting to cast such spells. For example, the casting of Sundown will create an all-encompassing singularity that will swallow up everything in the vicinity if the caster cannot control the spell properly. There are several historical accounts of entire towns and kingdoms that have been consumed by the void from which the spell draws its power as the rogue enchantment devoured everything around it without prejudice, the wizards who attempted to invoke the spell included, until the portal finally disappeared once there was no more living energy upon which to feed the darkness within.”</p><p>Evan’s pupils went wide again. As part of his own magical training, Leander had to memorize some of these stories by order of his teachers—presumably so that he would take his studies seriously out of fear. Nerea’s favorite of the bunch, naturally, was also the goriest. The tale of the destruction of the kingdom of Kosamio had everything a young girl would want in a story: forbidden romance, courtly intrigue, and an ending where the spurned lover took her revenge by attempting to banish the object of her affections to the void so that they would be together in death—only for the spell to run amok and consume the whole kingdom and everyone within it as well.</p><p>Looking back fondly on those memories, Leander wondered how much of it was a genuine fascination of the macabre and how much was Nerea enjoying watching him squirm as she made him tell the story in vivid detail again and again. But once the crown had passed to her, there was no more time for ghost stories and other childish fancies. A queen had no time for such frivolities, and nor did an archon.</p><p>“However, when mastered properly dark magic grants immense power which has been used throughout history—for good and ill intentions alike,” Leander pressed on. “After all, sorcery itself is not impacted by the morality of the wizard that uses it. The fire and water spells that you have learned could just as easily be used to harm others, could they not?” The young king nodded. “But your tutor did not hesitate to teach you those spells in fear of you using them against the innocent. Can you think of a reason why she would discourage you specifically from learning dark magic?”</p><p>King Evan took a moment to ponder this. Despite his discomfort, he was truly trying to parse and consider the paradigm shift that Leander was attempting to impart to him, was he not? Perhaps this was the value that Queen Nerea saw in having Evermore as an ally: an empathetic and impressionable young man...who could be easily persuaded. “...well, since there are so many negative associations with dark magic—even if they aren’t true—maybe Nella didn’t think a king should learn spells that would make others suspicious of them?”</p><p>Leander nodded. “Precisely. As a future king, your magical education was in all likelihood shaped to steer you away from spells that would make your future subjects uneasy. Such was the case with Queen Nerea as well; both of you were brought up to be rulers of your respective kingdoms who were always having to set an example for your people to follow.” Not that it had stopped a young Nerea from constantly pestering him to teach her these forbidden spells when they were younger, but Leander had remained tight-lipped under duress.</p><p>“A ruler of a kingdom should be the brightest star in the night sky for their subjects, their guiding light who rules through example. And that is one of my duties as archon of Hydropolis. My family has served the royal bloodline of Hydropolis for generations, protecting not only the rulers themselves but also their reputation in the eyes of their people.” (The Aristides had done far worse for the sake of the royal family over the years, but King Evan did not need to know that.) “Queen Nerea and I grew up together, and thus learned magic at the same time. However, I learned all of the spells that were not considered proper to teach a future queen in order to protect her future reputation as a ruler from malicious rumors that would undoubtedly spring forth were anyone to ever see her practicing such spells.”</p><p>“I was to be the shadow of the queen, in order for her guiding light to shine brighter as an example to the people of Hydropolis.” And shone brightly she had over the past three hundred years, through tragedy and triumph, facing horrors that her predecessors could not have ever imagined. Leander had been behind her every step of the way, shielding her from harm wherever possible. He did all he could to invite the people of Hydropolis to direct their scorn regarding the Four Pillars towards him rather than the queen, as Nerea was locked in a conflict with time itself to keep her kingdom alive and did not need more weight on her shoulders.</p><p>But it was time that Leander faced the facts: the light of Hydropolis had begun to fade. Though she hid it well from her people, Queen Nerea could not conceal it from her oldest friend: the strain of the enchantment was beginning to take its toll. Perhaps her choice to end the spell was due to her power diminishing to the point that she could no longer maintain it rather than a desire to let it all end. And tragically, this was the one thing that Leander could not protect her from—he could not stop her from pushing herself far past her own limitations, not when the lives of her people lay in the balance. Yet like the unfettered portal to the void that had swallowed Kosamio, the enchantment had to end eventually—and it would spare no part of Hydropolis.</p><p>“That sounds like a difficult and lonely role to play.” If these words came from anyone else, Leander would expect at least a hint of disbelief or sarcasm. But Evan gave them a genuine sense of empathy and understanding. It was only then that Leander could finally see what had driven the queen to accept his offer: the aura around the young king, invisible to everyone who had not undergone extensive magical training, was as radiant and warm as the sunlight streaming through a window.</p><p>“It is a challenging task, but one I apply myself vehemently towards for the sake of my queen and country.” Evan’s light was already burning brightly, and it had just begun to shine. If night finally falling upon Hydropolis was inevitable, then perhaps they—himself, Queen Nerea, and the kingdom at large—ought to leave one last mark on history by helping Evermore bring the world into a new era of peace and unity. One final glorious burst of radiance would certainly leave a better legacy than flickering out dismally. And after three hundred years, Queen Nerea was well deserving of a rest.</p><p>And to be frank, so was Leander. But not yet. He followed King Evan as the two of them departed the crumbling ruin to join the others, leaving the fallen sea beast to hopefully join the former inhabitants of this land in the peaceful sleep of death.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When Doloran first met Alisandra, and how Alisa got in touch with her former humanity once again.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the sun began to rise over the capital city of Allegoria, the ancestral kingmaker Alisandra—ethereal and radiant as the brightest star in the night sky—made her descent from the heavens above down to the highest dais of the castle, covered in golden silk banners and delicate ice-blue flowers in anticipation of her arrival and the ceremony to follow. Doloran had been told that during his father’s kingsbond ceremony there had been huge crowds of nobles and ministers—local and from the furthest corners of the world—plus their families, who enjoyed rich food and revelry as they waited for the kingmaker to appear and declare King Velair the new rightful ruler. But much had happened in Allegoria since then, and now Doloran found himself conducting the ceremonial vigil before the rise of the sun all alone.</p><p>In Doloran’s opinion, this was a much welcomed change. There had been at least one minister or lesser official shadowing him relentlessly at his every waking moment since his father had been laid to rest. Some detached part of himself understood their anxiety—King Velair’s end had come upon him so abruptly and there had never been a monarch in Allegorian history who had taken the throne at such a young age as he. For his part, Doloran himself had always chosen to study magic over politics whenever possible, as he had assumed that he would have more time for the latter when he was older. But now, the hour was approaching when the kingmaker of Allegoria herself would judge whether he was worthy to be handed the crown or not.</p><p>As he waited with staff in hand, shivering slightly in anticipation (or perhaps that was simply the cold—whoever had woven the ceremonial robes had not accounted for windchill evidently), an awful thought occurred to Doloran: perhaps he was expected to fail the kingmaker’s trial. The circumstances of his father’s passing were certainly unusual—many kings and queens had contentious relationships with the nation’s kingmaker, but none more so than King Velair. It was no secret among those in the castle that she did not approve of his schemes to expand the kingdom of Allegoria across the seas, even though many of the people of the kingdom had been enthusiastic at the prospect of conquering the continent of Autumnia.</p><p>No one could prove that Alisandra had caused the sudden demise of the former king—for who would dare accuse their fair and radiant kingmaker of such a heinous act? But Doloran surmised that no one in the castle would be particularly surprised if this were found to be the truth.</p><p>If all the former ministers of his father expected the same fate to befall Doloran, that would explain why none of them had volunteered to be here with him now. (Even the castle servants had scurried away as soon as the few decorations that the young king had begrudgingly allowed for the event were set up.) Were they anticipating his survival, surely at least one or two brave souls would have joined him in the vigil in an attempt to curry favor with the upcoming monarch and advance their own social standing. As it stood, they were probably holed up in one of their meeting chambers, arguing amongst themselves over who ought to be the next ruler of Allegoria.</p><p>Old, stuffy, insufferable egotists! Doloran would have them all thrown out of the castle if he could. ‘<i>But then there is the issue of whom to replace them with,</i>’ he considered, ‘<i>and what exactly all of their specific duties are…</i>’</p><p>While Doloran pondered this, the first light of dawn pierced the night sky as the sun peeked over the horizon. The softest waft of wings slicing through the air was the only warning that the young king got before the kingmaker landed softly upon the platform, like a feather falling to the ground. She touched down, golden hooves daintily clicking upon the unblemished white marble, with such gentleness that none of the silk banners swayed and not a petal on any of the flowers fell.</p><p>Up until this moment, Doloran had only seen the kingmaker of Allegoria in person a few times, as she typically did not grace the kingdom with her presence unless formalized ceremony or dire circumstances called for it. And on those scant occasions, he had never been as close to her as this.</p><p>The flowers on the dais were carefully cultivated by generations of royal gardeners meant to replicate the color of the kingmaker of Allegoria. However, the beautiful blooms seemed withered and hideous in the presence of the true Alisandra, whose scales gleamed like delicate winter frost at the daybreak of the winter equinox. The thick manes of fur around her slender neck and the three golden horns on her head appeared light and fluffy as the clouds above. The encroaching light of dawn shone through the intricate patterns in her wings like illuminated stained glass. Her eyes shone like bright sapphires, full of light that put the rising sun behind her to shame…</p><p>...and judgement. Despite having been looked down upon for the majority of his life (mostly from his father and the castle ministers), Doloran had never felt so tiny and insignificant...and utterly unworthy than he did under the kingmaker’s sharp, piercing gaze. He was at once deeply aware of just how <i>ancient</i> she was, how many countless human lifetimes her existence must have spanned. Alisandra had existed since Allegoria had grown from a settlement to a proper kingdom centuries before Doloran existed, and she would ensure the perpetuation of the kingdom long after he was gone.</p><p>“Doloran, son of Velair and Shanta.” The kingmaker’s voice, projected into his head, was as clear as a bell ringing out on a crisp morning. And yet it radiated an air of unfathomable power. Just being in the presence of Alisandra made it clear why his father had wanted to harness her power to expand the kingdom through conquest—though he was about ten steps away from the kingmaker, Doloran could feel the deep thrum of magical energy emanating from her very being. And all of that immense concentration that it must take to contain that much power was currently fixed upon him, turning over the many faults and inclinations within his own heart...</p><p>As much as Doloran tried to appear unflinching in the face of the kingmaker, he could not conceal a wince at the invocation of his mother’s name. The Queen of Allegoria had died when he was very young, much too young to remember her at all, and his father had only ever brought her up when he wanted to scold Doloran in the harshest way possible. (The castle servants would whisper to him that when Queen Shanta died, she took the heart of King Velair with her to her grave and he had never recovered afterward. But he was certain that they were just trying to make him feel better without incurring the wrath of the king.)</p><p>Since she had been as still as a statue since landing, Doloran was shocked as the kingmaker slowly blinked at him in confusion at his reaction. Although he was supposed to still his heart in preparation for the formation of their kingsbond, the young king could not help but feel a brief flicker of irritation flare up within him at this gesture. Alisandra had been bonded to his father for many decades, surely she should have some sense of the feelings that the king held in his heart towards his late wife and son? Or was she so detached as the guardian of this realm that those emotions were utterly trivial to her?</p><p>‘<i>How could I share a part of my own soul with a being so...inhuman?</i>’</p><p>Alisandra’s eyes darkened and Doloran took an involuntary step backward. “I sense darkness festering in your heart,” she continued in the same resounding voice, with every word echoing in Doloran’s head. “You have the runes of Evenstar within your head, although you have not yet cast that heinous spell. As your father did, you crave power—”</p><p>Doloran’s heart leapt in indignation. “I am nothing like my father! I do not want Allegoria to become an empire built upon war, to see the peaceful kingdom of my childhood turned corrupt and power-hungry as it preys upon weaker kingdoms!” He did not realize that his voice had risen to a shout until he heard himself echo across the dais, devoid of any life besides the kingmaker and himself, but he was too fired up to stop himself from continuing. “But that’s what so many others in Allegoria—my father, his ministers, and even some of the common folk—<i>want</i> to become!”</p><p>“As you have been here since the founding of the kingdom, you must know why Allegoria was built from white marble before it was lifted up into the sky by the first Wizard-King,” Doloran continued, desperation creeping into his voice while the kingmaker remained frozen and unreadable. “It was so that the light of the sun would bounce off every surface, casting no shadows upon the kingdom. Allegoria was to be a shining city in the clouds, a beacon of peace and knowledge to lead the world out of an age of strife. However, the shadows still linger on in Allegoria within the hearts of its people—even now. I do not want that for my kingdom, or for myself. I-I want to be a strong and just king to set an example for Allegoria and the world!”</p><p>“But—” His voice began to falter. “But I know that the rest of the castle—no, the rest of the kingdom think me naive and weak compared to my father. Even before I have even formed a kingsbond with you, they have already cast judgement upon me and assumed that I will become a terrible king due to my youth. I know that the former ministers of my father are plotting to usurp me even now, they do not even bother attempting to hide their disdain from me.”</p><p>“And yet...if they were to try and attempt a coup, I know that I would not have anyone on my side. Even though my father despised me, it was due to his presence that no one dared to suggest that I was not fit to be his successor. And that is why I learned Evenstar; if I could only get others to respect me through power, then I would master the most powerful spells and gain their admiration and trust through my aptitude in wizardry!”</p><p>Was that a spark of pity he saw in the kingmaker’s eyes? “I-I know I am not wise, strong, or charismatic as the kings and queens of old. But please, fair Alisandra, please believe me when I say that I only want what is best for my people, nothing more,” he pleaded. “If the only way I could retain my claim to the throne in order to bring Allegoria into the light was to immerse my mind in the dark arts, then...then so be it! At least my purpose would not bring about unnecessary war and suffering like the intentions of other potential rulers would, or as my father did. I will be the shadow of the kingdom so that the guiding light of Allegoria—and your own light as well—may shine all the brighter!”</p><p>Alisandra closed her eyes, deep in thought as Doloran fell silent and awaited her judgement anxiously. “Perhaps,” she began after a moment, “if the people of Allegoria are as tainted by greed and warmongering as you claim that they seek to conquer the lands of others even without the influence of Veliar, then Allegoria itself must be purged before the darkness in the hearts of its people can spread further.”</p><p>She turned her gaze towards the city below, but Doloran ran forward to block her path, clutching his staff in trembling hands as he shifted his feet into a sad approximation of a battle stance (as if he had any power that could hope to match the might of a kingmaker). “No, wait!” he screamed in panic. “The people of Allegoria are not irrevocably tainted by the darkness, they are merely blinded by basic human faults! I can change their minds if you will just give me some time! You...you cannot just raise a kingdom to the ground and call it helpful to the people you have just destroyed! That would make you just as cruel and heartless as my father!”</p><p>“Perhaps if you spent more time with the people of Allegoria rather than being so removed from the kingdom that you are supposed to protect, you might understand them better!”</p><p>Doloran instantly knew he had gone too far as he felt the aura of the kingmaker burn white hot as her eyes flashed gold. His jaw snapped shut reflexively (although it was too late, much too late to take that impulsive accusation back) and he raised his hands to cover his face (for all the good it would do) as the light radiating from Alisandra grew to blinding levels. So this was how he was to perish… And what a way to go; it would be awkward to have to explain to his ancestors in the hereafter that he had been smote by his own kingmaker before having even taken the throne...</p><p>...but then the light around Alisandra dimmed to the level at which he could see again. When Doloran chanced a glance at the kingmaker, he found her staring down at him with an unreadable expression. An ominous silence filled the dais once again.</p><p>“So, you would put your own life on the line for the wellbeing of your kingdom? It seems that your intentions are true and your heart is in the right place.” The kingmaker finally declared and Doloran could let out a shaky breath. Had that all been simply a test for him? “Perhaps it has indeed been far too long since I have walked among the people of Allegoria. I have not experienced life in the kingdom from the perspective of a human since before I became a kingmaker several millennia ago.”</p><p>Doloran knew that a kingmaker was formed when a human sacrificed themselves to fuse with a Great Beast in order to create a creature powerful enough to watch over an entire kingdom, but he was unaware that the resulting being would have memories of their previous human life. That seemed much crueler to him than letting the kingmaker forget who they had been previously. Did the human who had once been Alisandra have a family? Had she made that sacrifice willingly or was she pressured into doing so? “Do you...miss being a human?” he asked hesitantly.</p><p>Alisandra’s expression remained vague and she did not answer. “Very well,” she said after another long pause. “Doloran, son of Veliar and Shanta, we shall forge a kingsbond and you shall take your place as the rightful king of Allegoria. However, I will take on another form so that I may both regain this perspective of humanity that you claim I lack, and also to watch over you so that you do not fall into the darkness as your father did. I shall be the light to your shadow so that you will never be alone ever again.”</p><p>For Doloran, something about this promise made his heart flutter—it did not even feel like an implicit threat as Alisandra perhaps meant it to be. To never be alone again… He had not realized until this moment just how crushing the utter loneliness that had been with him for most of his life was. Doloran nodded mutely, some detached part of his mind recognizing that she had finally accepted him and now it was time for the next part of the ceremony to commence.</p><p>The three horns of the kingmaker glowed with a warm, golden light. Doloran held up his staff as purple strands of magical energy began to form around the weapon. Strings of gold and purple light erupted from both sources and entangled together in a shower of sparks until the colors had woven together and the kingsbond had been formed. All at once, Doloran felt a rush of...warmth through his body, pleasant but overwhelming. He had been under the impression that forming a kingsbond meant losing a piece of his own soul, but now he felt more...complete than before.</p><p>A blinding flash of light erupted from where Alisandra once stood. Once the intense brightness had subsided and Doloran could open his eyes again, he saw the most beautiful woman in the world in place of where the kingmaker once stood. She wore an elegant dress that glittered like sunlight reflecting off of diamonds, reflecting sparks of light in her eyes. Her ice-blue skin and her horns sticking out of the lush white hair on her head betrayed her true identity, but otherwise, Doloran would not have recognized Alisandra in this form. </p><p>“Is...is this how you looked before you became a kingmaker?” Doloran asked, with his breath catching in his throat.</p><p>“Something of this sort, yes,” Alisandra replied as she held out her hands and examined her new form. “But I will need a new appearance if I am to reconnect with the people of our kingdom and see what has led their hearts astray. How do I look?” She flashed him a dazzling smile, radiant enough to risk momentarily blinding him yet again.</p><p>“You are more luminous than all of the stars in the sky,” Doloran meant to reply, but what came out of his mouth instead was an incoherent jumble of nonsensical sound. The kingmaker let out a small laugh, and Doloran felt a different sort of warmth rushing through his body as his face flushed red with embarrassment.</p><p>For the rest of his (woefully short) reign as king of Allegoria, Doloran spent as much time as he could manage basking in the bright light of his kingmaker. However, when Alisandra (and all of Allegoria along with her) disappeared without a trace he was plunged into the deepest, darkest pit of despair. None but the brightest of lights could ever hope to reach him again.</p>
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